Third Time's A Charm
by steph84
Summary: Third (and final) instalment to Haunting Secrets and Sounds of a Breaking Heart. What will happen when Hermione stays with Draco for the summer?
1. Summer

The June sunshine streamed through the open window, bathing Hermione Granger in a warm light. A gentle breeze caressed her face as she opened her eyes slowly. "Morning already?" she muttered. "It feels like I just went to bed." She groaned as she rolled on to her side, eager to find more sleep.  
  
The past eight months had been a dream come true. After living as Draco Malfoy's wife for several weeks then finding out it was all a lie, Hermione needed some stability in her life. She was confused on her feelings for Draco, her once sworn enemy, and felt she had to get away. When Professor Dumbledore offered her an internship as an assistant to Professor Flitwick in Charms, she graciously accepted without hesitation.  
  
She had had many visits from her best friends Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, but so far, no word from Draco had been obtained. Hermione wasn't sure how to feel about it; should she be upset that he seemed to have forgotten her? Or should she be happy that he was leaving her to sort out her life? She mulled over these thoughts as she slid her legs over the side of the bed and shoved her feet into her fluffy slippers that were waiting in front of her nightstand. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes and trudged towards the washroom for a hot shower.  
  
She let the warm water stream over her face and through her thick hair. She had cut it recently to just below her shoulder blades and was eager to see how her friends reacted to the change. She definitely looked different, in her opinion, although Professor McGonagall assured her that it was just a self-conscious thing.  
  
After her shower, she dressed quickly, noticing that time had flown faster than she had hoped. She hurried to the Great Hall where she took her seat at the lower end of the Head Table. Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundskeeper, grinned at her from the other end of the table and Hermione waved hello silently. She watched as the entire population of students in front of her began eating and chatting, discussing dreams and making plans for their summer vacations.  
  
Hermione sighed. That was another decision that was plaguing her. Professor Dumbledore had asked her where she wanted to go for the summer holidays and for once, she didn't have an answer.  
  
"I wish I could let you stay here, but that is quite impossible," he told her regretfully. "I know how much you don't wish to go back and stay with your parents."  
  
Hermione nodded fiercely. Ever since her parents had lied to her about being a pureblood and since her mother forced her into the engagement to Draco, Hermione hadn't felt much need to keep in close contact with her parents. She still sent letters to her father often, but her mother was reluctant to speak with her. She was angry that Hermione hadn't agreed to stay with Draco and really marry him. "It's for your own good," she argued, but Hermione paid no attention. To her, she had to follow her heart. And at the present time, teaching at Hogwarts was where her heart belonged.  
  
She spent the rest of the morning planning her notes for the lecture in the afternoon Charms class. She had gotten to know many of the students very well and some of them reminded her sadly of Harry, Ron and her during their years at Hogwarts. She was interrupted when Professor Severus Snape burst through the library door, glaring her way.  
  
"Miss Granger, I suggest that you get up to the Headmaster's office immediately," he said in his cold, unforgiving tone. Hermione shivered at the sound of it. Snape had been considerably nicer towards her since her return to the school and Hermione was almost positive that it had something to do with the fact that he, like the rest of the wizarding world, felt sorry for her to be put through so much with the false wedding. But he was still the same old professor that despised her and her friends for seven years and he showed no signs of relenting completely.  
  
"What is it?" she asked, collecting her things in her arms and rising to meet his face. "Is it anything serious?"  
  
"I am not a messenger!" he barked, receiving a dirty look from the librarian. "You can judge for yourself when you get there," he added in a quieter tone. He took one last quick look around the library for any rule- breakers before departing.  
  
Hermione sighed and followed his suit, making sure to stay a significant distance behind him. Why did they always have to interrupt her just when she was on a roll with her work? She climbed the steep stairs to one of the higher floors and followed the hallway to the end where the familiar statue stood, awaiting the access word.  
  
"Bertie Bott's," she said to the statue and it leapt aside, creating a stairwell for her to climb. She began the ascent, wondering what exactly Dumbledore had in store for her. As the staircase swirled, she felt her head spinning in the opposite direction. She always felt weak and dizzy whenever approaching the Headmaster's office. Although Dumbledore had always been a close confidante, very rarely did good things come out of visits to his office.  
  
She knocked on the door at the end of the hallway, listening to its hollow effects. Pretty soon, a voice from inside invited her in and Hermione opened the giant door slowly, only to be greeted by two very familiar faces.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron cried, throwing his arms around her. "It feels like it's been forever!"  
  
"We were only here last month," Harry reminded his over-enthusiastic friend, shoving him aside and grinning at Hermione. "It's good to see you again, though." He turned to Professor Dumbledore behind the desk. "I trust you've been taking care of her for us."  
  
Dumbledore smiled gently. "Nothing but the best treatment for the brightest witch in her year."  
  
Hermione blushed like mad. She both enjoyed and hated when people made reference to her intelligence during her school years; indeed, she had been smart, but it had not gone without hours of hard studying, something Ron and Harry seemed to be prone to disregarding.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked when the redness in her cheeks finally faded. She was happy to see her friends, but a little concerned to see them visiting with no previous notice.  
  
Ron and Harry shared a look. "Remember how you said you needed a place to stay for the summer?" Ron asked, looking somewhat sheepish. "Well, we were thinking you could stay at the Burrow."  
  
"That would be great!" Hermione cried, but the look on Harry's face stopped her.  
  
"The only problem is," he said, picking up where Ron left off, "is that Ron and I won't be there."  
  
"Why not?" Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly offended, although extremely touched by the generous offer. What kind of host invites a guest to their home then breaks it to them that they won't be there for the duration of the guest's stay.  
  
There was that guilty look between the two boys again. "We're travelling to Australia," Harry supplied when Ron's words seemed to fail him. "You know, for the joke shop. Fred and George are considering starting a chain in 'foreign lands', as they call them."  
  
"Oh." Hermione couldn't help but feel let down and had trouble hiding her disappointment. She tried to smile so that the boys would relax. "Don't worry about me," she told them, feigning contentment. "I'll find some place to stay."  
  
"You're more than welcome to join us," Ron said quickly, finally clicking in to the jabs in the ribs from Harry. "I mean, we would be more than happy to bring you along with us."  
  
Hermione shook her head. In her mind, if they had planned the trip without her already, she wasn't all that welcome. Ignoring the pounding frustration in her temples, she smiled again weakly. "You guys go ahead," she told them gently. "I'll find somewhere to stay." Although her words were positive, Hermione's mind was busy convincing her that she would be stuck sleeping on the streets for the summer.  
  
Another thought occurred to Hermione just then. "You guys had me worried sick!" she chastised them gently. "Having me brought up to Professor Dumbledore's office! I thought someone was ill or something serious had happened!" On several occasions, Dumbledore had told Hermione to call him Albus, but after seven years of being under his tutorial, she found it hard to make the transition.  
  
"Well, we never know where you are," Ron complained, throwing his hands up in the air. "So we came here instead of travelling all through the castle."  
  
"So we're lazy," Harry chimed in, grinning from ear to ear. "Since when is that a crime?" Dumbledore gave him a knowing look and Harry looked down bashfully. "Hey! Since your next lecture isn't for another hour, why don't we all go for a walk around the grounds?"  
  
Ron nodded enthusiastically but Hermione shook her head sadly. "I can't," she told them honestly. "I failed to get as far as I would have liked on my notes. If I go for a walk now, I won't be prepared."  
  
"Not even a quick one?" Ron's face drooped into a pout and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"Not today," she said apologetically. "Why don't you guys come visit me before you leave for Australia? Then we'll go for a walk, I promise."  
  
Another guilty look was shared between the two boys. Hermione felt a feeling of anxiety drop into her stomach. "Well, actually, that's what this visit is for," Harry said when, once again, Ron's mouth was moving but no sound was being emitted. "We're leaving the day after tomorrow."  
  
"Oh." Once again, Hermione was at a loss for words. "Well, then why don't you come see me when school starts again? Professor Dumbledore was nice enough to grant me another year, at least, as Professor Flitwick's assistant." She grinned at the elderly man behind the desk.  
  
"You proved yourself to be more than capable of handling the position with grace and responsibility," Dumbledore commented, making Hermione blush again. "It would have been a shame if you had refused to return next school year."  
  
Hermione nodded slowly. "Well, I should be going," she said, hugging both Harry and Ron together. "Write me while you're away."  
  
"Where will you be?" Ron asked, who seemed a little reluctant to let go of her.  
  
Hermione shrugged. "Who knows? I'm sure either Hedwig or Pig will be able to find me. Have fun guys. Thanks, Professor." She left the office room with a wave of her hand, almost certain that if she had a pair of Extendable Ears handy, Harry, Ron and Dumbledore were talking about her at that very moment. 


	2. Threats and Causes

Exams crept up fast and before Hermione knew it, the last Charms exam had been written and the students were clambering over each other to get out of the classroom. Hermione shared a look with Professor Flitwick before smiling grandly and helping him collect the remaining papers, which students had forgotten to hand in.  
  
"What are your plans for the summer?" Flitwick asked Hermione as she handed him a handful of scrolls. "Are you travelling with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No. They offered, but I declined. I'd rather stay close to home this summer." Hermione had taken to referring to Hogwarts as her home, considering she no longer felt welcome at her own house. "I think I'll just kick back this holiday and practice some Charm spells so I'm in top shape for September." She smiled weakly as Professor Flitwick began chattering about his upcoming trip to Scotland during the summer holiday.  
  
When the last official day of lessons had ended and the last student had boarded the Hogwarts Express to head home for two months, Hermione collapsed in her bed, exhausted from all the work that day. Needless to say, she was a little annoyed when Professor McGonagall knocked at her door.  
  
"Hermione? You have a visitor." Her voice was steely, making Hermione think that it wouldn't be Ron or Harry. Who else would be visiting her, especially at this hour? She climbed out of bed wearily and opened the door. Following Professor McGonagall down the staircase, she was greeted by the sight of Draco Malfoy standing in front of her.  
  
"Draco!" she exclaimed loudly before looking around and lowering her voice. She nodded to Professor McGonagall, indicating that she was all right, and the professor left the room immediately, but not before giving a stern glance to Draco. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I came to visit," Draco replied nonchalantly. "Is that a crime?"  
  
Hermione shook her head, being strongly reminded of Harry for a second. "No, but I haven't heard anything from you all school year; why now?"  
  
Draco shrugged, taking a seat on the sofa in front of the fire. "I just felt like it," he said looking up at her and Hermione saw a glint of the old affection in his eyes. "How has it been, being back here and all?"  
  
Hermione looked around the circular room. "It's okay," she finally answered, although slowly. "Brings back a lot of memories, but it has been good."  
  
"Good to know," Draco said, following her gaze around the room. "I was surprised when McGonagall said you were still here; I thought you would have gone home with the students." There was a hopeful note in his voice, like he understood what the response would be.  
  
Hermione shook her head fiercely. "Are you crazy? After what my parents did to me? There's no way I will be going back there anytime soon."  
  
"Aw, come on," Draco said, taking on the pout of a five-year old boy. "You can't say living with me was a complete horror."  
  
She dropped to the sofa beside him. "It's not just that," she moaned. "It's a lot of other things, too, that have added up over the years."  
  
"Like them lying about you being a pureblood?"  
  
"Well, that and some other stuff that's not important right now. The fact of the matter is," she continued, determined to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters, "I have no desire to go back there right now."  
  
"So what are you going to do all summer?" There was a condescending tone in Draco's voice as he said this and Hermione didn't pick up on it right away.  
  
"I don't know," she replied honestly.  
  
"Well, I suppose you could come live back at Malfoy Manor with us for the summer," he said casually, waving his hand in the air as if it were just an idea floating around in his mind.  
  
Hermione stared at him. "So you did move out of the mansion?"  
  
Draco nodded in response. "Yeah. Father blamed me for making such a mess of things and giving you the choice whether to leave or not. He decided I wasn't 'worthy' enough to keep the mansion on my own, so he forced me out and I had no place to go but back home."  
  
For a short moment, Hermione felt incredibly sorry for Draco. The remorse soon passed and she found herself willing to agree to the idea. But before she spoke, her mind had a moment to comprehend what that meant. "I really appreciate the gesture," she said, just as airily as him, "but I don't think I could live with your father for the next two months without wanting to drive a stake through his heart."  
  
Draco looked offended before breaking into a smile. "He's not a vampire," he said. "An evil guy, yeah, but not a vampire." His smile faded slowly. "Although sometimes I feel like he's sucking the life out of me." He shook his head quickly and Hermione got the distinct impression that the last comment was not meant to be spoke aloud. "Anyway," he continued, "Dad won't be around much this summer. He, too, is travelling for business."  
  
Hermione didn't know which comment to address first: the fact that Draco had called his father 'Dad' (she had only ever heard him refer to his dad as 'Father' when speaking to other people about him) or the fact that Draco had put emphasis on "too" when discussing his father's business trips.  
  
"What do you mean, 'too,'" she questioned, deciding on the latter part of her argument. "Who else do you know that's travelling for business?"  
  
Draco gave her a withering look. "I assumed you already knew," he said in a mock voice. "Potter and Weasley are going to Australia this summer."  
  
"I did already know that," she shot back, feeling suppressed rage rise in her chest. "But how did you know that?"  
  
"Dad still has Ministry contacts," he replied, examining a fingernail. "And someone overheard Weasley's dad say it. Apparently he was bragging about it or something." He gave a tremendous sigh and rolled his eyes. Hermione just glared at him, her eyes drawing daggers in his chest.  
  
"Well now I'm definitely not going to stay the summer with you," she told him, standing up to go back upstairs. "Thanks for the visit, but I'll be seeing you around." She turned to the staircase and heard Draco jump to his feet behind her.  
  
"Wait!" he cried, rushing to take her arm. "Please consider," he begged her when she faced him.  
  
She eyed him warily. "Why are you so adamant about this?"  
  
Draco shrugged, and it seemed he was avoiding her eyes. "Dad's travelling a lot. I don't want to be lonely all summer."  
  
"What about your mother?"  
  
Now she was positive that he was avoiding her gaze. His eyes began to shift around the room uncomfortably. "Let's just say that Mother is in her own world lately," he told her quickly. "So please, consider it. That's all I'm asking."  
  
She sighed. It would certainly beat sleeping in the street. "I have to be out by the thirtieth," she told him. "I'll let you know before then. But I'm only doing this because I don't want to be sleeping on the street all summer!" she added when she saw Draco's gloating look.  
  
Perplexity filled his face. "Dumbledore wouldn't let you sleep on the street," he said. "You were his best girl back in our schooldays, remember?"  
  
"I'm warning you, Malfoy."  
  
"Okay, alright." He raised his hands in the air. "I surrender. But mark my words: if I don't hear from you by the twenty-fifth of June, I will be back here, banging on your door."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, turning to climb the staircase.  
  
"I'll talk to you before then, Hermione."  
  
She waved her hand over her shoulder without turning around. The prospect of spending the summer with Draco Malfoy sent her heart into orbit, although it was not something she would proudly admit. Being his wife for several weeks had changed them both, she thought to herself as she entered her bedroom again. She no longer felt the same thrill when she thought about Ron as she used to. Was it possible that she had fallen out of love with Ron? Was it possible that she never was truly in love with Ron? 


	3. Narcissa's Secret

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a few days; my area was affected by that major power outage in Ontario and the eastern seaboard of the States and I had no power for a while.  
  
True to his word, on the evening of June twenty-fifth, Draco paid another visit to Hermione at Hogwarts. This time, he found her sitting outside in the late evening sun by the lake. She was staring off into the distance with a soft smile on her face.  
  
"Hermione?" She jumped as he spoke her name. "I didn't mean to scare you," he added.  
  
She shook her head. "You didn't. I'm just lost in my own thoughts." She thought he looked a little sad when she mentioned that but chose to ignore it. "What are you doing here?"  
  
He gave her a tiny smile. "I told you that if I didn't hear from you by today's date, you would be hearing from me.  
  
"Right." Hermione hadn't forgotten this fact but pretended not to seem to eager about it. She had decided not long after Draco had left from his previous visit that she would join him at Malfoy Manor for the summer. If Lucius got on her case too much, she would simply go to her parents' house for the remainder of the holiday and bear her mother's ungrateful acts and comments.  
  
"So?" he asked, watching her expectantly. "What's it going to be?"  
  
She sighed. "If your father drives me crazy, I will have to kill him."  
  
Draco burst out into a huge smile. "I promise you," he said, placing his hand over his heart, "he won't be there most of the summer. So you'll definitely come?"  
  
"I'll be there on the evening of the thirtieth," she pledged, enjoying the excited look on his face. "But one screw-up from either of your family members, including you, and I will leave."  
  
Draco's face fell. "You won't have to worry about Mother," he said solemnly. "Trust me on that." He flashed one quick smile her way before departing, saying he would meet her at the Manor on the thirtieth.  
  
Hermione spent the next few days packing. She was in awe how in the entire school year, so many of her possessions managed to escape her clutches and wind up in the oddest places. She found lecture notes from the previous November tucked way under her bed when she could have sworn she had filed them away. Letters from Ron, Harry and her father were scattered throughout the room, but Hermione chalked that up to carelessness. When reading the letters, she sometimes lost track of the time and left the letters lying in peculiar spots.  
  
When she was finally finished packing, she looked around the bare room. Even though she would be returning the following September, she had packed everything in the room for fear that she might forget something that she needed over the holidays. She bewitched her trunk and bags to fly down the staircase and carried them out to the school lobby where she loaded them on to the carriage that would take her to Malfoy Manor. Despite the bumpy ride, she managed to feel relatively calm. She was dreading seeing Lucius again; the last time they had parted, Draco had been revealing that his father forged a minister to conduct the wedding ceremony, therefore making the marriage null and void. However, it gave her some satisfaction to know that Lucius would be angry as all hell that she had moved on with her life and was now working for his most hated person.  
  
The carriage drew up in front of the gates to the Manor and Hermione's heart lurched. She loved the first sight of the Manor; the feeling it had given her the first time made her almost squeal with excitement. Draco had told her that every glance at the house was like the first and she understood exactly what he was talking about as the carriage drew nearer to the front door.  
  
Draco was sitting on the steps, relaxed, examining his fingernails again. When the carriage stopped, he stood up and made his way to the door. "Welcome," he said, taking Hermione's hand and helping her down from the step. "Again."  
  
"You were right," she breathed to him quietly. "Every glance is like the first."  
  
"Do I know my house or what?" he asked and Hermione was strongly reminded of the mansion they had briefly shared as husband and wife. It had been very similar to Malfoy Manor, indeed, as Hermione noticed when she entered the Manor. During the construction of their house, Lucius had taken special care of the plans, to ensure that it took on a parallel form of Malfoy Manor to forever remind Hermione what she had gotten herself in to.  
  
"Dad's at work right now," Draco assured her as they began ascending the staircase that led to the floor with Draco's bedroom. Hermione had also shared that floor before the wedding last year.  
  
Draco swung open the door to her old familiar bedroom, at the end of the hallway. He motioned for the butler to set her luggage on the bedroom floor. She roamed around the room while her things were being brought up, reflecting on all the old feelings she had experienced in this room. She had dreaded waking up every morning and seeing the dull grey ceiling but now it was different. In two months she would be going back to Hogwarts, her true home, to resume teaching a subject that she loved.  
  
"All set, then?" Draco's voice yanked her back to the present. She nodded eagerly.  
  
"Thanks for letting me stay here."  
  
He shrugged. "I could use the company this summer anyway." He continued to hover in the doorway like a bellboy waiting for a tip. "Well, I guess I'll go back to my room." He gestured to the door two doors down on the left side. "Call me if you need anything." He hesitated for a moment longer before leaving her sight.  
  
She began to unpack, recalling old memories of when she first unpacked in this same room. She wondered how Lucius would react to her being here and whether or not he had already okayed the matter. Not that she really cared what he thought, but she didn't want him to be so angry that he chucked her out of the house.  
  
Looking around the room, it occurred to her just then: she was back. Not for good this time, though. In September she would be leaving again to keep up with her 'education'. She sighed and began to unpack her clothing.  
  
She was in bed early that evening and didn't see Lucius at all that night. Draco had appeared briefly in the hallway outside her open door to say goodnight. He hesitated again, like he wanted to say something, but vanished out of sight, leaving Hermione puzzled.  
  
The next morning, she awoke to birds singing outside her open window. A healthy breeze drifted in, making her stir and take notice of where she was. For a brief moment, in that sleepy state between unconsciousness and consciousness, she thought she had been kidnapped and brought back here against her will. But then she relaxed, remembering this time she was free to do as she pleased. She leaned back against the pillows, listening to Draco's bedroom door creak open and him tiptoe down the hallway in the opposite direction.  
  
She swung her legs around the side of the bed and threw her housecoat around her. The floor creaked under her weight as she paraded across the bedroom floor and out the door, eager yet dreading to see the look on Lucius' face when he saw her. But much to her disappointment, Lucius was not at the breakfast table downstairs.  
  
"He already left for work," Draco muttered, staring into his cereal bowl. "Unfortunately, when you left last year, Dad was insistent that I leave my job at the Ministry. Apparently he couldn't face the shame of his friends from the Ministry knowing that I let you choose whether or not to leave."  
  
Hermione just nodded as she sat down and the cook brought out a bowl of cereal for her. She began eating slowly, picking at her food, looking around the kitchen for Mrs. Malfoy.  
  
Almost as if she had heard her thoughts, Narcissa Malfoy walked into the kitchen, looking rather cheery. "Hello!" she greeted everyone in the kitchen. "How is everyone today?"  
  
If Hermione thought that Draco couldn't lower his head any further, she was wrong. He looked as if he dropped his head any more, it would fall into his breakfast bowl. Ignoring his odd actions, Hermione greeted her back.  
  
"Morning," she said. "I'm well, thanks; how are you?"  
  
Narcissa gave a tinkling laugh. "Very well, thank you, Bellatrix." She swooped down on a confused Hermione and kissed her cheek lightly. "Very well indeed. Tell me, Bella, are we going shopping today like you promised we would?"  
  
Hermione gave Draco a puzzled glance and he spoke up. "Mum, that's Hermione, not Bellatrix."  
  
Narcissa gave no notice of his comment and sat down for breakfast, not waiting for an answer to her question. When she got a chance, Hermione whispered to Draco out of the corner of her mouth.  
  
"Bellatrix died in our sixth year; why is your mother acting like I'm her?"  
  
Draco flushed. "Remember me telling you that my mother was in a world of her own? Well, it's a bit more than that. She's gone a tad insane in the head." He looked embarrassed as Hermione studied Narcissa.  
  
She looked completely content, chewing happily on her cereal. Every so often she would smile at the two of them. "Isn't my son perfect, Bella?" she asked. "Such a wonderful little gentleman." She reached out to ruffle Draco's hair but he ducked out of her reach. Ignoring his actions, she continued to babble.  
  
"She also confuses time," Draco confessed, watching his mother carry on a conversation with the cook as if she were one of her family members. "Often she will speak as if Bella is here and the last time Bella visited was before I was born." He looked incredibly sad.  
  
"Why is she like this?"  
  
Draco shrugged. "Personally, I think it's from years of not having her own mind. Dad's been controlling her for as long as I can remember." He looked thoughtful. "Perhaps 'control' is the wrong word. Whatever he said, she went along with it. And I think she finally snapped."  
  
"I guess that's what you get from years of mistreatment," Hermione muttered under her breath. She looked back at her cereal, not feeling the least bit hungry, and pushed away the bowl. "I'm going to get changed," she said, pushing back her chair. "Then I think I'll go hang out in the back for a while." She headed upstairs, her true thoughts unspoken.  
  
She planned to write in her journal all the conflicting feelings she was having. How she longed to be with Ron and Harry at that time, but she also enjoyed Draco's company. Seeing how his mother was, she felt sorry for him and understood why he didn't want to be alone with her. But when the time came to go back to school, would she want to leave? 


	4. Skeletons in Closets

Hermione's first week back at Malfoy Manor was an uneventful one. She filled pages of her journal, describing how the Manor had not changed since she had last been here and that the same cold chill reverberated through the house at all times.  
  
Lucius' reaction to her return wasn't quite as she expected. She came down for breakfast early on her fourth morning back and Lucius had simply gazed in her direction before departing out the door. His silence struck her as odd, but so did the entire situation. Three years ago, no one would have ever suspected that one day Hermione Granger would be spending the summer at Draco Malfoy's house, not by force, but by her own will. Sometimes, even her mind skipped reality and she would wake up in the early hours of the morning, frightened that she had been kidnapped.  
  
She was sitting outside on her usual bench, under a stream of trees, when Draco presented her with a letter. "It just came," he said, as if justifying that he hadn't already opened it.  
  
She glanced at the tidy scrawl on the front of it and saw that it was from her mother. "Thanks," she said, tucking it away in the book she was reading. Draco looked mystified but chose not to acknowledge it.  
  
"Reading on your summer vacation?" he asked, shaking his head slowly, a grin spreading across his face. "You are definitely no fun."  
  
"I am so!" Hermione looked up, offended that he would make such an accusation. "I just have to keep up on my Charms studies so I don't fail as an assistant next year."  
  
"You can fail being an assistant?"  
  
"You know what I mean, Draco."  
  
The grin spread even wider into a gaping smile. "I still say that you're no fun," he declared, sizing her up with his eyes. It was as if he was challenging her to argue or prove otherwise.  
  
Too intelligent to fall for his taunts, she simply shook her head and continued to read her book. Draco sat beside her in silence for several moments before she noticed his body stiffen. His head spun around and when Hermione looked in his direction, she saw Narcissa bounding across the lawn, a brilliant smile on her face.  
  
"Bella, Rodolphus! Just the two people I was looking for!" Her face looked flushed with excitement and Hermione took note that she was now calling Draco 'Rodolphus' who was Bella's husband. He, too, had been killed in the attack that left his wife dead.  
  
"I wanted to know about the party," Narcissa said, breathlessly, settling herself between Draco and Hermione. "I know you two want a live music group, and that it's your wedding reception, but I really think recorded music would be much better."  
  
Hermione looked at Draco, who appeared as confused as she felt. "Um, right," he muttered slowly. "Mum, do you think maybe you should lie down?"  
  
"I knew you'd agree!" Narcissa replied happily, jumping to her feet. "Cocktails for everyone!" she cheered and charged off back towards the mansion. Hermione's eyes followed her until she drifted out of sight.  
  
"What does your Dad think of her like that?" she asked Draco when she could no longer watch Narcissa.  
  
"He isn't really concerned," Draco said and Hermione detected a note of bitterness in his voice. "He thinks she's no harm to herself or anyone else."  
  
Hermione was at a loss for words. She felt horrible that the woman was plagued into internal darkness and chaos because her husband was so demanding. That should warn you to always think for yourself, she thought to herself.  
  
Draco stood up abruptly. "I have to go," he said and walked away before Hermione could have a chance to respond. She knew his mother's condition embarrassed him, but it was most definitely not his fault. If anything, it was Lucius' fault and he should pay. But that was not up to Hermione. That was up to the afterlife to decide his fate.  
  
She yawned and stretched out on the long bench and something fluttered to the ground. Reaching over carefully, her hand came across the letter from her mother. She held it in her hand, wondering whether or not it was worth reading. She finally decided to scan it quickly, in case anything serious had happened.  
  
"Dear Hermione," she read aloud to herself. "I hope that everything is suiting you well back at Malfoy Manor. Maybe now you will be able to make the choice you should have made at the end of last summer. The gods sometimes give you a second chance for a reason, Hermione, and this one was graced upon you so that you could choose the right path for yourself."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. If the entire letter was going to be about preaching and such, she didn't want to read it. Her eyes scanned down the letter quickly, ignoring the admonishing pressures that her mother was placing on her, before coming to rest on a rather interesting paragraph.  
  
"Your father and I will be taking a short vacation this summer to Australia. In other words, you can say we're trying to save our marriage. Your father is adamant that I stay out of your personal business and that whom you marry is none of my business. He doesn't understand that you are still a little girl and need assistance with every decision that you make."  
  
Hermione fumed at this last sentence. Reading on, her mother bid her well wishes and greetings from her father. "We're leaving at the end of this week," she wrote. "I'll write you from Australia."  
  
Was everyone going to Australia this summer? How come no one was inviting her? She felt a little put out but excited nonetheless. Her parents wouldn't bug her for quite some time. There was no way that they would travel all that way only to stay for a few days.  
  
Not if they're Apparating, said the little voice inside her head and her reality self was given a jolt. Sometimes she forgot that her parents were not Muggles and could Apparate and Disapparate. She curled the letter into a paper ball and stuffed it back into the envelope, feeling rage inhabit her body and mind. Who was her mother to think that she was still a child? She was almost nineteen, for crying out loud. Some girls her age were already married with three children! And if her mother assumed that she was such an invalid little girl, then why did she set her up to be married?  
  
Standing up furiously, Hermione stormed into the Manor, via the back door. Narcissa looked up as she passed her in the hallway, but said nothing, still lacking a grounded look in her eyes. Hermione tread up to her bedroom where she slammed the door so hard, the pictures of her, Harry and Ron fell off the walls, all complaining and rubbing their foreheads.  
  
She sat on her bed in a huff, folding her arms across her chest. It was no use pouting, she knew, because no one was there to see, but it made her feel better, thinking there was something she could do about her mother's attitude.  
  
A soft knock emitted from the other side of the door. "Hermione? Are you okay?"  
  
"You can come in," she sulked and Draco opened the door and entered. "I'm not a baby."  
  
Draco's usually clear eyes clouded up. "I know," he said slowly in the same tone he often used with his mother. "I never said you were. Here, have a box of Bertie Bott's." He thrust the box her way and she shook her head. He retreated his arm looking more confused than ever.  
  
"I wish my mother was like yours," she spat out before she could stop herself. Draco looked hurt for a split second, but the look soon vanished.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Oh, I didn't actually mean that!" she cried, feeling a sudden bout of homesickness sweep over her. "My mother keeps insisting that I'm a child still and that I need someone to look after me!"  
  
"That's funny," Draco said, digging into his box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "My mother can't even look after herself, let alone tell me that I'm incompetent." He smiled graciously at her and held out the box. "Sure you don't want some?"  
  
She shook her head again, but smiled. "No, thanks. You want to read the letter she sent me?" She moved over so that he could sit beside her on the foot of the bed. He sat down and took the letter in his hand. Unscrambling the paper, he took a few moments of silence to read the entire thing. Hermione watched his eyebrows rise as he neared the end of the letter.  
  
"See?" she asked as he handed her back the letter. She rolled it up again and threw it behind her towards her nightstand. "She thinks I'm a child still!"  
  
"So that's why she forced you to marry," Draco said slowly, trying to understand the situation himself.  
  
"Yeah. Makes total sense, doesn't it?" Hermione muttered miserably, grabbing a handful of candy out of the box in Draco's hand. "I mean, is she slow or just mental?"  
  
Draco's eyes flinched, but he said nothing. Hermione felt instantly sorry for choosing the terms that she used, but she didn't apologize this time. Instead she just shrugged and looked away.  
  
"Want to come job hunting with me tomorrow?" Draco asked. "I need a job for in September; just something so I can have a bit of money of my own."  
  
Hermione nodded. "Sure. I should get a summer job, but there's not much point now." She looked at the calendar she had on the wall that bore a grinning picture of Gilderoy Lockhart, one of Hermione's subtle heroes. "It's almost the second week of July."  
  
"Why did you like him so much?" Draco asked, looking at the calendar with a glare of disgust. "He was so rotten; I hated him."  
  
"He was fun," Hermione answered quickly. She wasn't sure exactly why Lockhart had stuck out in her mind, but she was sure that his good looks played a very small part.  
  
"I can be fun, too," Draco said, leaning close to her. Hermione leaned back, ready to accept his kiss but the door burst open and there stood Narcissa, looking fit to be tied.  
  
"Bellatrix! Lucius! What are you doing?" she shrieked. "I thought I would find you up here! I can't believe you, Bellatrix! My own sister! With my very own husband! The two of you make me sick."  
  
Hermione turned to Draco as his mother approached them. His face was pale and he looked frightened. "Mum, it's me, Draco," he said quietly, standing up to face her. Hermione was impressed to see that his height matched her own and he towered over her by a few inches.  
  
"You slime," she shot at him, raising her hands. "If I had my wand with me," but she broke off in mid sentence. She turned to Hermione and seethed. "I would have expected better from you, Bella," she said in a faraway singsong voice. "Much better. After all, you always said that you never had eyes for Lucius, yet here you are, alone in your bedroom, half undressed. How do you explain yourself this time?"  
  
Hermione was speechless. She kept opening and closing her mouth, not sure what to say. Draco jumped in with, "Mum, that's Hermione, not Bellatrix." He motioned for Hermione to leave the room while he restrained his mother. "She's got to go now, Mum, and I think you had better lie down."  
  
Hermione fled the room, escaping to the safety of the kitchen. She sat at the table, with her head buried in her arms. She felt like crying for the poor woman, but no tears came to her eyes. How sad it was for Draco to live in a house like this. They were well off, yes, but emotionally unstable, the whole lot of them. Somehow, Hermione suspected that Bellatrix Black's death had quite an effect on her sister. Hermione could clearly remember the day that Harry and Bellatrix duelled in the streets of Hogsmeade, late at night. Lucius Malfoy was battling with Remus Lupin and Hermione and Ron were shooting hexes and curses at every moving thing they didn't recognize.  
  
"This is for Sirius!" Harry cried and a burst of green light shot from his wand. Bellatrix's face contorted as she dropped lifelessly to the ground. Of course, Lucius and the others had abandoned their battles to check the commotion. Bellatrix's lifeless body was carted out of the village on the shoulders of her fellow Death Eaters. "That was for Sirius," Harry said quietly as Hermione and Ron comforted him.  
  
The front door banged open and Lucius Malfoy burst into the kitchen, a flurry of black robes and white blond hair. He glared at Hermione before asking coldly, "Where's my family?"  
  
"Upstairs," Hermione replied, just as bitterly. "Your wife isn't feeling too well at the moment. Maybe you should take her to the doctor's. Unless, of course, you have a fake doctor that you're willing to take her to." Her eyes glinted at him as his unrelenting hateful glare penetrated her very soul.  
  
"Very well," he said through tight lips. "Where are they?"  
  
"I told you, upstairs," Hermione repeated, exasperated. How slow was this man? "Draco was going to put Narcissa to bed."  
  
"Under this roof, you will call her Mrs. Malfoy," he spat at her.  
  
Hermione remained defiant. "I will call her whatever I please," she said sternly. "Besides, it's an insult to call her Mrs. Malfoy; it makes it seem like you own her."  
  
Lucius grinned and leaned towards her so that his face was inches from hers. "I'm letting you stay here for the summer," he said, "but I can kick you out at any time."  
  
"If you do that, I might not make the right decision at the end of the summer," she retorted and he moved his face away quickly, shock filling his furious eyes.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Kick me out and I won't have the chance to make my decision."  
  
"What decision?"  
  
She smirked. "I guess you'll have to wait until the end of the summer to see."  
  
She enjoyed seeing the agony on his face and expected a nasty comeback, but he remained quiet. Instead, he traipsed up the staircase, yelling, "Narcissa! Are you okay?"  
  
Hermione said in shock for a few moments. It was as if someone else had spoken those words that she was sure had come from her mouth. Never in a million years did she ever think that little meek Hermione Granger would have the nerve to stand up that fiercely to Lucius Malfoy. It felt good to know that she had a strong backbone, nestled somewhere in the goodness of her soul. 


	5. Darkness and Prose

Lucius never did take Hermione's advice to get a doctor to see Narcissa, nor did she think he would. Ever since Hermione's threat, he had been staying out of the house to avoid her at all costs. She knew he had figured out that the decision she had to make was whether or not she would get together with Draco and with each passing day, she found that decision easier to make.  
  
She and Draco went job-hunting for him the following day and searching through all of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. No matter what, Draco seemed insistent that there was something wrong with every job.  
  
"I don't want to sell wands," he whined when they passed Ollivander's. "All those dumb questions."  
  
"What about Quidditch supplies?" Hermione asked as they passed the Quidditch shop. She thought she saw Harry inside but it was only a reflection of a boy on the street who also had messy black hair.  
  
"Reminds me of how I didn't get to play professional Quidditch," was his excuse. And so they continued on. "Honeydukes has too many screaming kids. I don't want to serve people in a coffeehouse. I don't want to have to dress people for robes."  
  
"Is there anything you are willing to do?" Hermione asked as they roamed around Hogsmeade for the third time.  
  
There was a hint of laughter in Draco's eyes before he answered. "Work at the Ministry," he said and Hermione had a strong feeling that was the polite version of what he wanted to say. "I got used to it there."  
  
"Well, you're going to have to adapt accordingly," she told him in frustration. "But let's get out of here for today; your mind is working overtime right now." They left the village and headed back towards the Manor. When they arrived, Hermione headed into the house, but Draco draped his arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the back.  
  
"Where are you going?" she asked, eager to escape to her journal. Draco had been giving her furtive little looks all day long and she couldn't wait to confess these in her writings.  
  
"In the backyard."  
  
"That's great; what for?"  
  
He smiled in her direction. "No particular reason." He continued to lead her around the back to the bench where they usually sat. Hermione discovered that aside from her journal, this bench was her only means of sanity when she felt hurt, angry or scared.  
  
"Okay, now that we're here, what do we do?" Hermione looked around, trying to shield her eyes from the sunlight. They had gotten an early start to the day and it was barely noon, making the sun hotter and more prominent than anything else.  
  
"Sit and relax," Draco said, leaning back against the bench and stretching his arms out. One landed on the back of the bench behind Hermione, only this time she didn't move away. She leaned closer to him, wondering if the butterflies in her stomach were ever going to cease their fluttering wings.  
  
"Do you ever wonder if you could ever just get up and walk away?" Draco asked softly. Hermione glanced at him and saw that he was looking up in the direction of the sun.  
  
"Sometimes," she answered just as softly, thinking of her parents' betrayals in her life so far. "Sometimes I just wish that I could drown the whole world out."  
  
Draco's smile had faded long ago and he now wore a contemplating look that plainly confessed his confusion. "I just don't get it," he muttered to himself. "I really don't."  
  
"Don't get what?" Hermione asked, although she knew the answer already.  
  
"Everything," he said simply, raising his hands in the air slightly. "Everything that means anything, I never understand any of it." He was silent for a few moments, giving Hermione the window of opportunity she had been waiting for.  
  
"When your mom was acting like we were Bellatrix and your father, was she reliving a memory or something? Did that really happen?" Almost immediately, she regretted it because Draco's eyes had filled with fury.  
  
"Yeah," he admitted tightly. "This was long before I was born and before Bella married Rodolphus. Apparently she and my father had been getting along a little too well during one of Bella's visits and my mother found them in her room." Draco looked a little upset at this thought. "The room that she stayed in," he said, his voice strained, "was your room."  
  
"Oh." Hermione didn't know how else to address this comment. She was sleeping in the same room that Draco's evil Aunt Bella had slept in, the same room that Bellatrix and Lucius had shared who knows how many passionate nights, the same room that Hermione often felt silvery, cold drafts float through the room. Her mind began to work overtime as she imagined waking up to find a furious Bellatrix Black standing over her.  
  
"You know about Bella, right?" Draco asked, his voice breaking into her thoughts.  
  
She shook her head. "The only thing I know is that she killed Sirius Black. And obviously I know how she died."  
  
Draco turned away to watch the bright sun again. "She was more than just the Dark Lord's most faithful servant," he said, his voice oddly hushed. "She was much more than that. She was more like a mistress to him than anything. She valued the pain he gave her above anything else. It was sickening." His voice went quiet for a few moments while he mouthed empty words. "If Potter hadn't killed her, the Dark Lord would have," he finally finished, leaving Hermione's mind reeling.  
  
"If she was his mistress, why would he kill her?"  
  
"There were rumours," Draco replied, hesitant to reveal the story. "Rumours among Death Eaters and the wizarding world in general. People were saying that she was pregnant." He choked on his very own words. "With His child."  
  
"Voldemort's?" Hermione whispered and Draco shushed her.  
  
"Father still has 'old friends' over sometimes," he warned her and she knew he meant fellow Death Eaters. "If they hear you speak his name." He shook his head. "Let's just say, there will be hell to pay."  
  
Hermione nodded knowingly. She would never forget the shrill scream of Bellatrix Lestrange as she hollered that Harry wasn't worthy enough to speak the Dark Lord's name. "Now that he's back in power, it's even worse, isn't it?" she asked fearfully, although she fully knew the answer.  
  
Draco nodded slowly before changing his mind and shaking his head. "Not completely," he told her truthfully. "He's not as strong as last time."  
  
"And how do you feel about this?"  
  
Draco only shrugged. "I can't say too much," he warned. "If I go against it, Dad hates me. If I go for it, I may lose some things that mean a lot to me." He glanced into her eyes then and she knew immediately that he was talking about her.  
  
She stared back at him, half-closing her eyes. She waited for him to press his lips against hers like he had before but no such motion came. When she opened her eyes again, she was aware that Draco's attention wasn't even focused on her. He was rather busy watching his mother stroll along the grounds, talking to invisible guests.  
  
"We want to put the tent here," she said, gesturing to thin air. "Bella is determined to be married outside, whether or not the weather is ideal." She looked in their direction and her face lit up. "There's the happy couple there!" she cried, pretending to lead the way to them. "Bella, Rodolphus, this is Stephen, the wedding director." She held her hand out to invisibility and Hermione nodded weakly. She didn't know how to respond to Narcissa's antics.  
  
"Mum," Draco said softly. "I think you should lie down again."  
  
"Why, Rodolphus?" she asked, peering at him curiously. "I don't want to miss out on any of the wedding planning."  
  
"Mum, it's me, Draco," he said, standing to take her arm. "Let's go inside."  
  
"Narcissa! Get in here!" bellowed Lucius' voice from the back terrace. Immediately, as though someone had poked her with white-hot coals, Narcissa jumped back to reality and called back to her husband.  
  
"Coming, dear!" She hurried away from the two confused teenagers and Draco flopped back down on the bench heavily. Hermione just patted his back lightly, unsure of how else to treat him.  
  
It wasn't until three days later that Hermione received her first owl from Albus Dumbledore. She tore this letter open with much more anticipation than the one from her mother, and read it eagerly.  
  
"As always, Hermione, I hope this letter finds you in good health. I'm sure if you've had any concerns or problems, you would have written me by now. I have heard of your parents' trip to Australia and I am a little concerned. If anything goes wrong, or you need help with anything, you will not be able to return to your home there. So if an emergency arises, please don't hesitate to contact me. Other than that, I hope your vacation is going well. Please give my regards to Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley if you hear from them at all. Best wishes, Albus Dumbledore."  
  
Dumbledore! Why hadn't she thought of him before? She hurried up to her room from the garden by the terrace and grabbed her writing items. Sitting down on her bed, she began to scrawl a reply to Dumbledore.  
  
"Dear Professor, I appreciate you sending the letter and your concerns, but I assure you that everything is going okay, so far. If any problems arise in the near future, you will be the first to know.  
  
"There is a little matter that I would like your advice on. It seems Narcissa Malfoy has been losing track of time lately and in a serious way. She often mistakes Draco for his father and Rodolphus Lestrange and myself for Bellatrix Lestrange. I am at a loss for what to do, Professor, and I'm relying on your help. Lucius doesn't seem to care and Draco's convinced that the whole reason behind this is because Lucius manages Narcissa's thoughts and behaviour at all times and this madness is just a result of years of mental torture.  
  
"If you have any advice at all, Professor, I would gladly appreciate it. Narcissa Malfoy hasn't been the best of human beings in the past, but she's just that: a human being. Thank you again for your letter and I hope to hear from you soon."  
  
Hermione signed the letter, wondering if she was doing the right thing. What if Dumbledore intervened? On second thought, Hermione gave her head a shake. Albus Dumbledore wasn't meddlesome; he would give her the advice she asked for and question her on if it worked later on during the summer. That was alright with Hermione because that's what she was aiming for.  
  
She sealed the letter and took it downstairs to put it in the post pile. While down there, she helped herself to a drink of cool water as she watched poor Narcissa wander across the lawn, chattering aimlessly to herself. Hermione sighed; would there ever be any relief for Narcissa Malfoy? 


	6. Like a Candle

Dumbledore's reply didn't come in until the last week of July. Hermione had been losing track of time for all the days she was spending with Draco. She realized that although he wasn't the nicest guy on earth, he wasn't the most horrible either. She actually enjoyed his company and felt incredibly disappointed when every time he went to kiss her, Narcissa somehow interrupted them.  
  
When she received the reply, she was frustrated that Dumbledore's letter didn't say all that much about Narcissa's condition. After she had read the little advice he did give her, ("Narcissa Black has had a hard life. It's safe to say that her marriage conditions were not much unlike your own 'marriage'. She's had a lot to live up to and I'm sure as long as you support her, she'll do just fine,") she couldn't help but feel empty. Narcissa' ramblings had only gotten worse. When Hermione first arrived at the Manor, Narcissa could at least recognize when her own husband was calling her. Since then, her mental health had deteriorated and she would no longer heed to the incessant calls from both Lucius and Draco.  
  
"I feel so helpless!" Draco exploded while sitting inside the kitchen on the afternoon that Hermione received her reply from Dumbledore. She hadn't told Draco for fear that he would be angry. "Mum's only getting worse and Dad's being blind to it all!"  
  
"I know," Hermione said sympathetically. "There must be something we can do."  
  
Draco gave a snort of contempt. "Like what? Take her to a doctor ourselves?"  
  
"Yeah!" Hermione's eyes brightened. "Your father can't stop us!"  
  
"He can kill us afterwards instead," Draco replied, hatred growing on his face. "Besides, it's his fault she's like this; how can he sit there and pretend nothing is happening?"  
  
"How could he cheat on your mother with her own sister?" Hermione reminded him and Draco's eyes grew even darker. "These are the little things that you have to remember."  
  
"Even though I don't want to."  
  
Hermione decided that it was time to get Draco out of the house and into the sunshine for a bit. His failure to find a job and to reclaim his old job at the Ministry left him feeling dark and desperate. Hermione could see him sinking lower every day, so on the fourth of August, she woke him up at the crack of dawn with loud, rapturous knocks at his bedroom door.  
  
"Get up!" she hollered through the solid wood. "We're going out!"  
  
"Where?" Draco appeared at the door, his blanket draped over his head, looking like a lost, scared little child.  
  
"Diagon Alley," she told him firmly. "Now get dressed."  
  
"Yeah, right," he muttered, trudging back to bed, his blanket dragging on the floor. He flopped down onto the mattress face-first, leaving Hermione standing alone in the doorway.  
  
She walked in the room and raised her wand steadily. "Ventilo," she muttered under her breath and the mattress flew off the bed and began turning in the air. Draco was heaved to the ground where he grumbled madly.  
  
"There's no arguing with you, is there?" he mumbled as he headed towards the washroom.  
  
"Nope," she replied happily, leaving the room. "I'll be downstairs in the kitchen; meet me when you're done." She practically skipped down the stairs and greeted Narcissa who was counting cereal bits on the table.  
  
"Morning, Bella!" Narcissa replied just as cheerfully. "Do you know if Mother and Father are going to the fair today? I know that our aunt and cousins will be there. You and Sirius should really try to get along, you know."  
  
Hermione stopped in her tracks to hear what else Narcissa was going to say about Sirius Black. But Narcissa had already begun to count her cereal pieces again, ignoring the fact that Hermione had even entered the room.  
  
After breakfast was said and done with, Hermione practically had to drag Draco out of the house. "I didn't actually think you were going to make me go!" he cried, digging his heels into the carpet as Hermione tugged on his hand. His blond hair was falling limply over one eye. "Why do we have to go anywhere?"  
  
"Because I said so," Hermione bossed, pulling him out the door into the sunshine. "I know you feel bad about your mother," she added quietly, "but she'll be just fine. She's just got to adjust to so much right now."  
  
"Unless Dad gets swallowed by some giant machine at work," Draco retorted bitterly, "Mother won't be happy for a long time."  
  
Hermione chose to ignore this comment as they made their way to Diagon Alley. As usual, it was packed with witches and wizards all buying their new supplies for the school year. Hermione ran into several of her students from Professor Flitwick's Charms class and spent a large amount of time talking to them. When she finally got away from a group of four of them, she noticed that it was nearing one in the afternoon.  
  
"Time certainly flies!" she exclaimed, pulling Draco by the hand to get him motivated.  
  
"When you're having fun," he replied sarcastically. They had a something quick to drink in the Leaky Cauldron before heading back out into the sunshine. It beamed down on them, causing Hermione to break into a heavy sweat.  
  
"Let's sit down," she puffed, taking a seat on the steps to Gringott's bank. Draco followed her lead and they waited until they caught their breath.  
  
"Look at that guy!" Hermione giggled, pointing at a wizard who was obviously trying to pass for a Muggle. He wore a large top hat that kept sliding over his eyes and a long tailored coat, which almost reached the ground due to his short stature.  
  
"Gee, do you think he wants to appear taller?" Draco asked as the little man passed them. He tipped his top hat to the two of them before struggling to keep it firmly rooted on his head.  
  
Hermione giggled outrageously. "He's sweet, though," she said, her eyes following the short man through the street. When she turned back to Draco, she saw his face only inches from hers. "What?" she asked, smiling at him.  
  
He leaned towards her and gently pressed his lips against hers. A sharp intake of breath caught in her throat as she kissed him back lightly. When they finally parted, Draco smiled back at her. "I'm really glad you talked me into this outing."  
  
"I didn't talk you into it," she said, shoving him playfully. "I had to literally flip you out of bed and drag you out here."  
  
He shook his finger at her in mock menace. "Remind me to get you back for that," he said, referring to the mattress that was still spinning in circles over his bed. "But for now," he stood up, pulling Hermione to her feet, "we go back to the Manor so we can sit outside in some form of shade."  
  
"Alright," Hermione agreed, figuring that they had been out of the house, wandering, for at least three hours. If she could get him out like this every day for the rest of the summer, he just might turn out healthy in the end.  
  
All of Hermione's good hopes were dashed upon their arrival back to the Manor. There was a large group gathering in the front yard and neither Lucius nor Narcissa were anywhere to be found. Draco began pushing past people and cursed under his breath as he passed a Ministry official.  
  
Just inside the doorway stood an attendant from St. Mungo's Hospital. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, jabbing Draco in the chest with his finger.  
  
"Um, I live here," Draco retorted. "What happened?"  
  
The attendant's eyes narrowed. "You live here, you say? What's your name?"  
  
Draco looked indignant. "Draco Malfoy. My father is Lucius Malfoy and my mother is Narcissa Malfoy. Now let me in!" He pushed past the attendant, but the attendant jabbed a finger into Hermione's chest, causing her to cry out slightly.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"She's with me." Draco closed his fist around Hermione's hand and pulled her past the grumpy St. Mungo's worker. Upon entering the sitting room, Hermione let out a gasp of shock. Even though there were several people standing around the bottom of the staircase, she could still see the sight they were hiding.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy's body lay, mangled and broken, at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
Draco's face paled incredibly as his mouth flailed without sound. His eyes scanned the crowd for a familiar face, finally coming to rest on Lucius Malfoy. Lucius' face was even paler than Draco's but his mouth was set in a thin line as he stared down at Narcissa.  
  
"Dad!" Draco cried and judging from the look on his face, Hermione wasn't even sure he knew he yelled it.  
  
"What happened?" Hermione asked softly, stepping forward. She gripped Draco's hand tighter as they neared the crowd.  
  
"She fell," Lucius said simply and several of the witches in the crowd gave him seething looks.  
  
"She's alright, isn't she?" Draco asked, peering through the looming figures. "I mean, she only fell, right? That's why a guy from St. Mungo's is here?"  
  
"Damn it," cursed a heavyset wizard. "I told that attendant to go back already!" He pushed his way out of the crowd and Hermione got a full view of Narcissa's body.  
  
Her head was bent at such an angle that could only mean her neck was broken. One leg was still draped up on the stairs while her arms lay motionless around her limp body. But one thing stood out to Hermione: her face. For the first time since Hermione had known her, Narcissa Malfoy looked peaceful.  
  
"She's alright, isn't she, Dad?" Draco continued to question, panic rising in his voice. "I mean, she'll wake up and be okay, won't she?"  
  
There was something in the way that Lucius held his head that told Hermione the answer before it was spoken. "No," Lucius said, coming over to his son. "She's gone."  
  
"Gone where?" Draco let out a hollow, bitter laugh. "Gone where, huh, Dad? Back to insanity, where you drove her? Is that how she fell? Thought she could fly or something?" In the process, he had dropped Hermione's hand and she searched desperately for it to calm him down.  
  
"I never did anything of the sort," Lucius hissed and Hermione was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "I didn't drive her to anything! She did it all herself, with the silly memories of her sister. She thought Bellatrix outdid her in every possible way and when I made the simple mistake of falling for Bella's charm, it drove her to think that Bella was the perfect sister and she had taken me away from her."  
  
"Simple? It wasn't so simple to her, was it Dad?" Draco gestured to his mother on the floor, where wizards were living her gently with the tips of their wands. "It was actually so incredibly complicated that you drove her mad with the thoughts."  
  
Before Lucius had a chance to fight back, an elderly witch in the crowd snapped. "Your wife and mother is dead!" she hissed at them. "Have a little respect." She lowered her head and Hermione copied her actions, tears dripping off her face slowly.  
  
But Draco didn't hesitate. He pushed past his father and Hermione and darted for the door. The attendant tried to stop him on the way out, but Draco reached for his wand and the attendant back off, hands in the air.  
  
"Draco!" Hermione cried desperately as the wizards carrying Narcissa's body passed by her. She made a move to run but Lucius' hand on her shoulder made her stop.  
  
"Leave him be for now," he told her softly. "He'll need to be by himself."  
  
When Hermione looked at Lucius, she saw not the man that she loathed for so long, but a widower; a man who had lost almost everything in his life, except for his son who had just run off. She felt sorry for him, for the first time since she had met him, she felt sorry for the old bastard. He stood there, tears dripping down his face, as the crowd around them began to depart and leave the house.  
  
"You should have taken her to a doctor," Hermione said softly before heading upstairs. No matter what the excuses were, she was convinced that somehow, in her madness, Narcissa had fallen down the stairs and killed herself. But was it an accident or was it something more?  
  
There were two routes, Hermione thought to herself as she climbed under her covers in her bedroom. There's suicide; Narcissa was so mixed up in her own mind that nothing seemed clear. Or there's murder; maybe someone didn't want Narcissa to discover any more nasty secrets from anyone's past.  
  
With the sun shining outside, streaming in the window, causing Hermione to turn away to shield her teary eyes, she wondered how such a poor, confused soul could ever have their life snuffed out so quickly. 


	7. Banding Together

News of Narcissa Malfoy's death his the wizarding community pretty hard. It was hard enough to think of the once-cheery and personable Malfoy as mentally disturbed, let alone dead. Hermione was faced with the task of answering all owls and queries about Narcissa's death.  
  
When the reports came back on Narcissa's body, it was determined there was no foul play involved and her death was ruled as accidental. Hermione thought this to be a little out of league, but she kept quiet, taking on the responsibility of funeral arrangements, also.  
  
Two days after Narcissa's body was discovered, Draco turned up. Hermione was staring out her bedroom window at the back terrace when she noticed a figure lurking in the dark. Leaning out for a closer look, she determined that Draco had finally returned. She hurried down the staircase and out the backdoor onto the terrace.  
  
"Where have you been?" she cried as she approached the bench. He looked like he had been gone for weeks. His hair was ruffled from running and his clothes were in disarray.  
  
"A trip," he answered shortly and she could tell he didn't want to talk. Instead, she walked up to him and wrapped him in a great hug, holding him tightly. She didn't know what to say, having been lucky and never losing someone that close to her. She held him for several moments until a bang from the Manor drove them apart.  
  
"What was that?" Draco asked, peering through the darkness to the glowing lights of the house. He stood up, prepared to attack whomever was spying on them.  
  
"Don't," Hermione warned, resting her hand on his arm. Slowly, he reached inside his robes to reveal his wand, held steadily, ready to attack. "No one's there," she assured him in a soft, comforting voice and after several more moments of pleading, he lowered his wand.  
  
"How's Dad?" he asked, his voice halting several times.  
  
Hermione shrugged gently. "Okay, I guess. I've been delegated the tasks of arranging the funeral and informing all your relatives." She stopped short, wondering why Draco looked so angry. "What's wrong?"  
  
He looked up at her like he had never seen her before. "You're planning my mother's funeral," he said slowly, as if he were talking to someone who was mentally challenged. "That's what's wrong."  
  
"I know that," Hermione said, her heart sinking. "That's not what I meant."  
  
He turned away from her. "Why don't you just go to bed?" When she protested, he added, "Please. I need to be alone right now."  
  
She obeyed his request, heading back to the Manor, but not before she saw a lone tear trickle down his cheek.  
  
The following morning, Hermione arose to the sound of shouting coming from downstairs. It was apparent that Draco had returned to the inside of the Manor sometime during the night for his voice, as well as Lucius', echoed throughout the great house.  
  
"You practically killed her!" Draco shouted. "Keeping her all cooped up like this! It's all your fault!"  
  
"My fault?" Lucius roared and Hermione was sure she felt the walls vibrate. "It wasn't my little friends that killed her sister!"  
  
"Potter is not my friend!"  
  
"No, but Hermione Granger is."  
  
There was a forged silence as Hermione made her way downstairs. She didn't want to burst in when the conversation turned to her but the two Malfoys made the decision very easy for her.  
  
Draco muttered something and Lucius laughed. "Right. Sure. Then what is she, Draco? Is she your little girlfriend?"  
  
"What's it matter to you?" Draco snarled. Hermione continued to eavesdrop around the corner from the kitchen where the two men were yelling. "My life has never mattered to you and neither did Mum's. The only life that has ever mattered to you has been your own."  
  
"And look where it's got me." Lucius' voice had become cold and drawl, every syllable pronounced with the efficiency of a businessman.  
  
"Well, let's see," Draco said in mock thought, "first it lost you your job at the Ministry, then it landed you in Azkaban prison. Where next, Father? Dead?"  
  
"Enough!" Hermione burst through the kitchen door, determined to stop this conversation before it went any further. "I've heard enough from the both of you. This has got to stop. It's Narcissa's funeral today and you will both act like human beings, for if you don't, you will both dearly pay."  
  
Draco was silent but Lucius sneered. "Oh and what will you do, little girl?"  
  
Hermione eyed him hatefully. Words from her mother's letter flashed through her mind as her rage heightened. "I won't hesitate to kill you myself," she finally finished. She knew it was a bad idea for a threat, but she didn't care. She just wanted him to shut up.  
  
And he was quiet from then on. He stormed out of the room, soon to be followed by Draco, leaving Hermione in the kitchen with a massive headache.  
  
The wizarding church had been prepared for Narcissa's funeral and friends from all over the world were attending. Hermione saw many people she recognized as Death Eaters enter the church and watched bitterly as they greeted Lucius. "Just ignore them," Draco was muttering under his breath and Hermione wasn't sure if he was speaking to her or to himself.  
  
No matter what Hermione did, she couldn't get the grotesque picture of Narcissa's body out of her mind. When the service started, she didn't hesitate in commencing her tears, Draco holding his head high beside her. She clutched his arm tightly, determined not to let him run off and leave her here alone. She knew from the looks that the Death Eaters were giving her that they recognized her, too, and she certainly didn't want to be alone anywhere near these murderers.  
  
After the service, Hermione had arranged for a private burial, including only immediately family members. As she moved to walk away from Draco, leaving him with his father, he reached out for her arm. "Don't go," he said pleadingly. "Please. I don't want to be left alone right now."  
  
"You're not alone," she told him gently. "You have your father here."  
  
"Enough said," he replied.  
  
Hermione took a deep, steadying breath. "This is supposed to be a time for you and your father," she began but Draco's beseeching eyes made her change her course of speech. "Fine," she said, heading back towards the cemetery.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy was to be buried in a cemetery not far from Malfoy Manor. Hermione knew that Draco would be grateful for this because he could visit her whenever he pleased without letting his father know. The sunshine streamed through the trees, illuminating the minister (Hermione hired this one) said a few words about Narcissa, but Hermione knew that there wasn't much to say. Narcissa Black had come from a family of dark wizards and married one of the slimiest wizards the world had ever known. Yet he still found some things to say that made Hermione sniffle sadly.  
  
Lucius hadn't shown all that much emotion since that morning when he and Draco got into their row. Hermione was a little concerned about him until they arrived back at the Manor. She watched as he dropped into a sofa chair and sobbed heavily. She took Draco by the hand and led him upstairs where she pushed him gently into his room and insisted that he lie down for a while.  
  
"Thanks for everything," he whispered, kissing her gently on the cheek before closing the door. Hermione touched the spot on her face where he had kissed her and headed back to her own room.  
  
She sat down on her bed and began to write a long letter to Harry and Ron. "I don't know how to feel," she wrote. "I obviously feel bad because no matter how evil Narcissa was, she was still a human being. And I just saw an act from Lucius that proves underneath his evil exterior, he really is a human being too." She paused for a moment, considering whether or not she should tell the boys what she witnessed. It seemed rather private and she knew that Harry, who had more experiences with Lucius than he cared to share, would find it hard to believe that Lucius Malfoy was able of an act like crying.  
  
"I feel bad that I couldn't help her," she continued to write. "She really wasn't all that awful to me but I guess there's nothing I can do now." She sighed. "I look forward to hearing from you guys. Love, Hermione."  
  
She put her quill and parchment away and climbed into her own bed. It was barely three in the afternoon but she felt like she had been up for several hours. She closed her eyes and drifted into a restless sleep. 


	8. Truths

Hermione was beginning to feel that nothing would ever get back to normal. Lucius and Draco were not on speaking terms and every time Hermione tried to get them to reconcile, they would both tell her to stay out of it. Finally, almost a week after Narcissa's funeral, she agreed to mind her own business and began preparing for her return to the school.  
  
Her letter of return was accompanied by a personal letter from Dumbledore, once again telling her to let him know if there was anything he could do. "I know Lucius and Draco are hurting right now," he wrote, "and we've got to give them time. I imagine this is a sudden hit to Lucius who has never taken his marriage seriously."  
  
Hermione thought that last sentence might have to do with the fact that Lucius was once caught with Bellatrix. She tucked the two letters away, after reading the letter from the school. It simply stated that she was to be at Hogwarts on September 1, two weeks from now.  
  
Down the hall she trod and knocked softly on Draco's door. "Can I come in?" she asked when he responded to the knocks.  
  
"Yeah." She waited for something else to be said but nothing came. Instead she entered his room, almost afraid at what she would find.  
  
He was lying on his bed, fully clothed, but wide-awake. His eyes were penetrating holes in the ceiling and he didn't move them when she opened the door. "Hi," he muttered, unmoving.  
  
"Hi," she said softly, walking towards his bed. She knelt on the floor beside the mattress, staring at him. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah," he replied after heaving a great sigh. "I guess." His face turned towards hers so that it was only inches away. "How are you doing?"  
  
"I'm fine. Just wondering if you and your father are ever going to talk again."  
  
Draco shook his head and looked back at the ceiling as though there was something of major importance waiting there for him. "I have nothing to say to him," he finally revealed, "and I think that the feeling is mutual."  
  
"Oh, Draco," Hermione said heavily. "It's not at all like that. You just have to learn to communicate with him."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Draco sat up so fast that Hermione's head almost spun. "Just like you're communicating with your parents, right? How they betrayed you and little Miss Perfect is trying to patch things up with them, right? I guess I should be just like you!"  
  
Hermione was speechless. Draco swung his legs around the side of the bed and stood up. He began pacing the room, muttering to himself, and Hermione was sure she heard the phrase, "Little Miss Know-it-all".  
  
"Look," she said, feeling exasperated. "I know you're upset and all, but I know how you're feeling."  
  
"No, you don't," he shot back at her, turning his dark angry eyes on her. "You have no idea how I feel."  
  
"Okay, you're right, I don't."  
  
"You have no idea how it is to have to face my father every day when I know what he put my mother through. He chose his work over us, Hermione; his work over his family! Bellatrix was also involved with the Dark Lord and that gave Dad something to work with while he was serving the Dark Lord. My mother didn't approve of the Dark Lord and what he stood for nearly as much as people assumed she did. When she caught my father with Bella, she went berserk, screaming foul names at him. Dad's retold the story to me enough times; I should know." He sank back on to the bed, his head hung in defeat.  
  
Hermione moved towards him, still kneeling on the floor. Perched on the floor in front of him, she gently lifted his head and kissed his lips. When they broke apart, Draco stared at her in confusion.  
  
"Why?" he asked, tears filling his eyes. "Why to so many things? Why did my mother have to leave? Why am I stuck with this idiot for a father? Why are you choosing me?"  
  
"I can't answer the first few questions," Hermione replied quietly, "but don't you want me to choose you?"  
  
"More than anything," came his reply. "But I just don't want to wake up one morning and find this is all a dream. If you weren't here, I don't know what I'd do."  
  
Hermione kissed him again, the passion between them growing. She felt his need for her rising and let him invade her body and soul. Afterwards, she lay in his bed, him sleeping soundly beside her, and contemplated her options.  
  
She loved him; there was no other way to put it. Despite all the horrible things they did to each other in school, she truly loved him. So what was she to do now? She could go back to Hogwarts in September and pretend like nothing happened this summer. Or she could quit her job at Hogwarts, which she also loved, and stay with Draco so that he didn't have to live alone with his father. Maybe they could actually marry this time and live together happily in the mansion that they had for a very short period of time.  
  
But would she want to leave Lucius? Evil as he was, he was still a human being, as he had proved to her almost a week ago. He needed someone with him, too, and although he didn't show it, Hermione was convinced that he needed his son. He had already lost his wife and Draco would be a loving reminder of the wife he must have loved for so long.  
  
She got up quietly from the bed, and wrapped Draco's bathrobe around her, which hung by his door. She slipped out of the room and back into her own where she had a quick shower and then climbed into bed. Outside, torrential rains pummelled the windowpanes and thunderous noises shook the walls. Lightning illuminated the sky, making Hermione shiver under her bedclothes. What had she gotten herself into?  
  
The next morning, Draco came down for breakfast in a sullen mood. It was clear to Hermione that after she left his room the previous night, he had awoken and not gotten much sleep. His eyes brightened, however, when they came across her sitting at the table.  
  
"Morning," he greeted her, smiling softly. Lucius looked up from his morning coffee and stared the two of them down.  
  
"Good morning," Hermione returned. "Sleep okay?"  
  
"Like a baby," Draco lied, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I was thinking of sitting in the garden by the terrace today; want to join me?" He directed his question at Hermione, ignoring his father.  
  
"But it's still drizzling outside," Hermione protested but her objections were swept away with a wave of Draco's hand.  
  
"A little rain never killed anyone," he chorused. "I'm going to get dressed first. Give me a few minutes." He put down his coffee cup and headed upstairs, the stairs groaning their protest as he passed. Lucius gave Hermione an inquisitive look but she simply smiled, guilt written on her face, and muttered that she, too, was going to get dressed.  
  
Once upstairs, she knocked on Draco's door. He opened his quickly, leaving Hermione to think that he had been standing right by it.  
  
"Hermione," he said urgently before pulling her close to him. "Where did you go last night?"  
  
"Back to my own bed," she replied, struggling to move away. "I figured you could use a good night's sleep."  
  
He let go of her and she fell loosely towards the door. "I can't believe I did that," he said, heading towards the bed. Hermione followed him closely. "I can't believe that I let things get so far between us last night."  
  
"You were upset," Hermione began but Draco held up his hand and shook his head.  
  
"Not that way," he said. "I know I was upset although I'm still not sure that was right. But I meant I can't believe I let things get so far between us overall. When you said you were coming here for the summer, I told myself that I couldn't get attached to you this time. You would be leaving in September again anyway and I couldn't bear to lose you again. It hurt too much last time." He took a deep breath.  
  
"So I made myself a promise. And I made myself a Potion. A potion so strong that I couldn't take it. It was a potion that was going to make me immune to love this summer, a potion that would protect me from falling for you again and, therefore, being hurt when you left. But I couldn't bring myself to take it. Instead, I dropped it outside my bedroom window and it hit our gardener." He looked guilty for a second as Hermione fought her laughter.  
  
"I've been thinking," she started, but he interrupted her again.  
  
"Now you're leaving in two weeks and I don't know what I'm going to do!"  
  
"Get a job?"  
  
"I tried that, remember? General work doesn't fit me."  
  
"Right." Hermione truly believed that Draco wasn't finding work because he didn't want to find work. She knew that he was hurting from his mother's departure but she had to make him see that there was a future out there. His life wasn't ending here. His father still needed him, no matter how much he denied it.  
  
"Maybe," Draco began, breaking into her thoughts, "I should try to get an internship at Hogwarts like you suggested last year."  
  
Hermione's heart leapt then dropped. It would be bad enough that she was leaving the house for the school year; if Draco left too, what would happen to Lucius? "Maybe you should wait," she began slowly. "After all that's happened, I don't know if it's wise or not."  
  
A look of hurt flashed across his face, killing the brief moment of happiness. "I can't stay here," he hissed at her quietly. "Everywhere I go, I'm reminded of Mum. Everything has her scent on it and I can't stand watching Dad walk around moping."  
  
"He's hurting too, Draco."  
  
He shot her a nasty look. "Yeah, right, Hermione. That's why he drove her to insanity and slept with her sister?"  
  
Hermione's mouth opened and closed like a fish. She wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. True, Lucius had put Narcissa through her fair share of troubles, but what marriage didn't experience those problems? When she shared this thought with Draco, he gave her yet another scathing look.  
  
"Like our marriage, right? The one that wasn't a real marriage? Yeah, I'd say we experienced some problems." He shook his head sadly. "Sometimes, I just don't understand you, Hermione."  
  
"Sometimes, I don't understand myself."  
  
Early the next morning, Hermione sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore to inquire about an internship opening for Potions. "Just for curiosity's sake," she thought to herself as she headed downstairs to breakfast.  
  
She spent the day outside in the sunshine. It had finally stopped raining the night before and everything was fresh and new. The faint scent of rain still hung in the air like the dewdrops that clung to the flowers in the garden around her. She sat on the bench, her feet up on the other end, and jotted mad notes in her journal. She relayed her feelings about Narcissa and Narcissa's death. She confessed that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make the connection between Narcissa Black, Draco's mum, and Bellatrix Black, the personification of evil that killed Sirius Black. "The whole family's muddled," she wrote furiously, eager to catch every word that flew through her brain. "There's so many Blacks and they all venture in different directions, which makes them so much harder to trace. I guess that was good for them, though."  
  
"Writing about me?" came a voice from behind her. She spun around quickly, knocking her legs to the ground.  
  
"Don't scare me like that!" she cried, taking a swipe at Draco with her closed notebook. "You scared the hell out of me!"  
  
He gasped in sarcasm. "Hermione Granger swore! I'm appalled!"  
  
She grinned. "If that's the worst thing I say to you today, consider yourself lucky." She grew serious again. "What was with your father at breakfast today? He seemed rather moody about something."  
  
"He went back to work for the late shift last night," Draco recalled, "and got into a fight with Peter Pettigrew."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Draco shrugged. "I don't know. Pettigrew thinks the others should worship the ground he walks on because he helped bring the Dark Lord back to life. Dad doesn't approve of his attitude and they're always squabbling." He looked down at the ground. "Doesn't matter anyway. What are you doing out here?"  
  
Hermione raised her journal slightly. "Writing. You?"  
  
"Boredom. You can only read the same books so many times."  
  
Hermione knew this last statement was a direct hint on how bored Draco was and how he needed to get out. She didn't want to tell him that she had sent a letter to Dumbledore for positions available in the Potions area, at least until she got a response.  
  
"I've got to go to Diagon Alley for a bit," she told him, standing up. "Would you care to join me?"  
  
"Nah." He shook his head, his blond hair flying wildly around his head. "I'm going to sit back here and enjoy the sunshine." He kicked out on the bench and Hermione made her departure, wondering how it was possible for Draco to be so angry one minute and so content the next. 


	9. Past Meet the Present

Hermione wandered aimlessly around Diagon Alley, unsure of what to buy for her new school year. She wandered in and out of Flourish and Blott's, glancing through the stacks of books before it became too stifling hot and she had to leave.  
  
She stared around at all the happy families that surrounded her, many people claiming their children had to be ready to go for the beginning of the new school year. Hermione made it a game of listening to see which school was mentioned most and Hogwarts soon won by a long shot. She studied the students closely, wondering if any of them were going to be in her classes this year.  
  
"Hermione? Hermione, it is you!" A voice from her left startled her and she turned in the direction it came from.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley?"  
  
The short, red-haired woman rushed towards her, almost knocking her over in a hug. Her face hadn't changed except for the dark circles under her eyes. "It's been too long," she exclaimed, holding Hermione at arm's length. "What are you up to this summer?"  
  
"Staying with a friend," Hermione replied quickly, perhaps too quickly. Mrs. Weasley gave her a funny look.  
  
"Arthur heard that you were staying with the Malfoys; is this true?"  
  
Hermione hung her head and nodded. "Yeah, it is," she said but Mrs. Weasley's smile brought her face back up.  
  
"Well, I'm glad to see you're all getting along," she said softly. "But you know, you're welcome to stay with us anytime."  
  
"I was going to stay this summer," Hermione started and the entire story spilled out. She told her how Ron had invited her but he and Harry were going to Australia, and how Draco had asked her to stay and she had nowhere else to go and didn't want to go back to her parents and how she couldn't stay at school. She began to cry as she told Mrs. Weasley all about her woes at Malfoy Manor; how Draco had changed so much and Lucius was acting like a human being and about Narcissa's death.  
  
"I heard about that," Mrs. Weasley said, handing Hermione a tissue to wipe her eyes on. "That poor woman. I feel just horrible for her. After all she went through." Mrs. Weasley's voice tapered off and her sad tone was replaced by a smile. "That's enough of that," she said, steering Hermione off the street. "Why don't you come back to the Burrow for a bite of something to eat? We would be more than glad to have you."  
  
Hermione considered this, wondering if she should leave Draco alone for so long. "He's a grown boy," she argued with herself. "You love him, yes, but you have to have a life yourself."  
  
"All right," she said, smiling at Mrs. Weasley and taking her arm. "Thanks for the invitation."  
  
"Not at all, dear." Mrs. Weasley led her to the grate where they both took a pinch of Floo powder and stepped into the emerald flames.  
  
"The Burrow," Hermione stated when it was her turn and she felt her head begin to spin as if she were on a really wild ride. When it stopped, she saw Fred (or George; she couldn't tell them apart) smiling at her from beside the kitchen table.  
  
"To what do we owe this honour?" he asked, helping Hermione brush the soot off her clothes.  
  
"Now George, don't you be giving her a hard time," Mrs. Weasley said, tying on her apron. She tapped George on the head with her wand. "Now go; let the poor girl get settled." She moved out of the way and led Hermione to the table where she pulled out a chair for her. "Don't mind the twins," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. "Ever since they started their little joke shop, they've been worse than ever."  
  
A commotion over by the front door distracted the two women and they turned in that direction. Mr. Weasley had just come bursting through the door with a kettle in his arms that was emitting tiny alphabet letters from its spout. "Molly, dear, have we got any of that powder in an envelope I brought home last week?" His eyes travelled past his wife to Hermione and he almost dropped the kettle.  
  
"Hermione Granger? What a pleasant surprise; I didn't know you were dropping by!"  
  
"She was in Diagon Alley," Mrs. Weasley told him, dropping a white envelope into her husband's hands. "I invited her back to the house for a bite to eat."  
  
"How nice," Mr. Weasley commented as he began forcing pinches of the pink powder down the kettle's spout. Slowly, the alphabet letters were ceasing. "How have you been, Hermione?"  
  
"Okay," Hermione replied, thinking of the past few weeks. "How about you?"  
  
"Just fine, thank you, just fine," Mr. Weasley answered somewhat absentmindedly. He was trying to shoo the twins away from the kettle. "It is not 'cool' boys so get away from it." He smiled gently at Hermione. "Been keeping busy?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione answered, looking around the room. It felt weird to be in the Burrow without either Ron or Harry there. She felt almost lonesome until she spotted Ginny Weasley descending from the staircase.  
  
"Mum, I think there's a bunch of Doxys in the upstairs curtain. It keeps rattling something awful." She looked up and her face brightened. "Hermione! What are you doing here?" She rushed to hug her friend tightly and then scrutinized her face closely. "The Malfoys haven't been hurting you in any way, have they?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "How did you know I was staying with the Malfoys?" she asked quietly, trying to stay away from prying ears. Mr. Weasley seemed to be watching them with great interest.  
  
Ginny shrugged. "Word of mouth. Anyway, so you're okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Your mother invited me back for a bit of lunch today." Hermione was still in awe of this place, as much as she had ever been. It amazed her how different this magical house was from Malfoy Manor. Here, a wand was stirring the lunch on the stove while Mrs. Weasley was scolding the twins for leaving their fake wands lying around. At Malfoy Manor, they had actual cooks to make them their meals. Hermione took great joy in sharing her experiences at the Manor with Ginny; she knew Ginny would be the only one that would ever truly appreciate a cook making her something to eat or drink.  
  
The afternoon passed quickly and Hermione found herself not wanting to leave. They ate lunch uneventfully, with Hermione asking questions about the Order of the Phoenix. "How is everyone? Are they still at Grimmauld Place?"  
  
Mr. Weasley nodded. "Everyone's doing okay; it's still a little empty without Sirius there but I'm sure his memory isn't far outside the door."  
  
"How was Harry making out with it all?"  
  
Mrs. Weasley suddenly looked sad. "The poor dear still comes to visit and when he wakes up in the morning, he asks to see Sirius first thing." She shook her head sadly. "It takes him a few minutes before it clicks in."  
  
Hermione nodded her head slowly, unsure of how to respond to that information. It seemed very unusual of Harry to respond in such a way but Harry had also lost someone he regarded as a parent as well as a friend. She imagined Draco was feeling very similar at the moment.  
  
Hermione hated to leave the Burrow but she tearfully parted goodbye at the fireplace before stepping into the emerald flames and saying very clearly, "Malfoy Manor". Her last view of the Burrow was Mrs. Weasley waving goodbye sadly and Mr. Weasley letting Fred and George have it for messing with his kettle. 


	10. Doubt is a Hateful Thing

Hermione burst through the fireplace in Malfoy Manor, coughing up soot and dirt. She smiled weakly at Lucius, who was sitting in a chair reading the newspaper. He looked up suddenly when she appeared and stared in wonder before going back to his reading, without asking any questions.  
  
Hermione made her way upstairs. It had grown dark outside during her time at the Weasley's, although she had only intended to stay for lunch. She didn't want to part with them for each time she left one of her old friends, it was like leaving behind another piece of her life. She hated the feeling.  
  
Draco was in his room with the door wide open. Hermione was alarmed to see that he was carrying several sword-like blades and that his bed was littered with at least five or six of them.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked casually, walking through the door without knocking. He looked up, surprised to see her.  
  
"Just thinking," he said, going back to staring out the window.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Lots of things." His eyes looked glazed and faraway, like he hadn't slept in days. "About Mum and why she was driven to insanity. About Dad and why it appears that he doesn't really give a damn about anything. About you and what's going to happen to us after you leave."  
  
"I've written to Dumbledore and asked him about an internship in Potions," she said quietly, relishing the look on Draco's face. "Just for curiosity's sake," she added quickly. "I'm still not sure you should leave your father." She giggled. "I think I just gave him quite the start." She told Draco the tale of her visit with the Weasleys and the look on Lucius' face when she spouted out of the fireplace.  
  
Draco chuckled. "He must have just about fallen apart on the spot," he said. "Things like that can really startle him." He sighed heavily and looked at her fondly. "I hope Dumbledore responds soon," he told her, touching her hand gently. "I really don't want you to leave me next week."  
  
"Technically, it's two weeks almost," she said just before he kissed her tenderly on the lips. She felt herself shudder and heard all thoughts of taking things slowly from now on floating out of the window. She didn't want to hesitate; she didn't want to stop. All she wanted was to lose herself in Draco's heart.  
  
"Hermione! That bird of yours just crashed into the window!" Lucius' voice echoed from down the stairs but he didn't sound angry. Hermione sighed and sat up, slowly pushing Draco off of her.  
  
"Ignore him," he muttered, but she persisted.  
  
"It could be a reply from Dumbledore."  
  
Draco stood up and straightened out his clothes while Hermione fixed her hair. The two of them went downstairs together and Hermione took the letter gingerly from Lucius. He, too, looked lost and isolated in his eyes.  
  
Ripping open the paper, Hermione's eyes scanned the paper. "Upstairs. Now," she said, pulling Draco by the hand. They stopped on the staircase, once Lucius was out of sight, and Hermione let out a little squeal of delight. "Snape's willing to take you on as an assistant," she said, hugging him. "He would be 'thrilled' to have you work with him! And Dumbledore's willing to accept you. What is it?" Draco's face, which had been so elated only seconds before, had taken on a dark look.  
  
"I have to tell Dad," he muttered, going pale and his eyes growing wide.  
  
"I thought you knew that from the beginning," she said softly, touching his arm.  
  
"I did," he answered, "but it didn't really occur to me until now." He looked at her, his eyes full of panic. "What's he going to say? He's not going to like it, Hermione, and I can pretty much guarantee that he's going to try and stop me."  
  
"He won't do that," she assured him, "especially if he knows it's what you really want." But deep down inside, Hermione knew that she couldn't argue with Draco's point; Lucius was going to be furious.  
  
But they were both far from the truth. Instead of screaming and shouting, Lucius simply said, "No," when they approached him the following morning.  
  
"What do you mean, 'no'?" Draco asked, following his father around the kitchen, shaking the letter in his fist.  
  
Lucius looked at him. "I mean no, Draco. You would think someone with your brains and talent would be able to understand a simple phrase like that."  
  
"But Mr. Malfoy, it's what Draco really wants to do," Hermione started but a sharp look from the elder Malfoy stopped her.  
  
"I don't really see where it concerns you," he told her calmly. "And unless you can prove otherwise, I can't really say you should be involved with this conversation."  
  
"But Dad, it does involve her," Draco protested. "It was Hermione's idea to write Dumbledore and ask him. You know Professor Snape, Dad; he's a good guy." (Hermione rolled her eyes but chose to say nothing.) "Besides, you're always saying how I need to do something with my time."  
  
"I have no problem with you being an assistant to a good man like Severus Snape," Lucius informed his son. "I do have a problem, however, with you leaving the house for so long."  
  
"I told you he needed you," Hermione whispered to Draco, only to receive another look from Lucius.  
  
"I thought I told you to stay out of this, Granger," he warned.  
  
"Dad, stop it."  
  
"No. I'm tired of this little girl butting in wherever she feels necessary. It's almost like she thinks I'm not competent enough to run my own household."  
  
"Dad, that's enough."  
  
"No, it's not. We took her in for the summer when she had nowhere else to go. No one else wanted her and we took her in like a charity case. Instead of bursting into our personal lives, she should be grateful that we were kind enough to keep her off the streets this summer."  
  
"Dad, I love her," Draco said quietly, interrupting his father's rant. Both Hermione and Lucius looked at him in surprise but Draco kept his head down. "I do love her," he repeated, "and I really don't think you have any right to talk to her like that."  
  
Lucius opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for words. He looked back and forth from Hermione to Draco. "Do you love him?" he finally asked Hermione and it was her turn to look speechless. Draco's prying eyes weren't helping.  
  
"Well, yes," she said, tilting her head in his direction. "I do. That's why I don't want to leave him this year."  
  
Lucius was silent for a moment's time, during which Hermione and Draco shared furtive looks. When Lucius finally did speak, joy rang in his voice. "Well, then, let's arrange a marriage for you two, shall we? We should have the same crowd as last time and the same caterers and everything, right?"  
  
"No," Draco said softly and Lucius stopped.  
  
"I'm sorry; did I just hear you tell me no?"  
  
Draco nodded. "Yeah, Dad, you did."  
  
Lucius' eyes once again travelled from Hermione to Draco and back. "May I ask why?"  
  
Draco looked at Hermione and she nodded slowly. "Well, we're in love, yeah, but we don't want to get married just yet."  
  
"Why the hell not?"  
  
"We're barely nineteen," Hermione piped up tentatively. "We want to enjoy being teenagers in love before moving onto something more serious." An appreciative look from Draco told her she had hit it right on the nose. "Maybe further down the line," she added for Lucius' sake, "marriage will be an option. Just not right now."  
  
"So you want to leave me," Lucius finally said, rounding the topic back to Draco heading back to Hogwarts. "Leave me here alone?"  
  
"I left before," Draco said and Hermione winced. She knew what was coming.  
  
Sure enough, Lucius stood up and began to pace the room. "That was different," he said quietly. "Your mother was here then."  
  
"Dad, I miss her too," Draco said, standing up behind his father but Lucius raised his hand to stop him.  
  
"Don't," he said. "Don't even start. I know you want to go for your own reasons, but I just need time to think about all that's happened."  
  
"Me, too, Dad."  
  
"I'm going to leave for now," Hermione said, standing up and heading for the door, but Draco stopped her.  
  
"Stay here," he told her firmly. "You're as good as a part of this family now." He turned back to his father. "Dad, I know what happened between you and Mum's sister so many years ago. I know a lot more than you've given me credit for and I still blame you for Mum's descent into insanity, as much as I don't want to believe it. You were the cause of it and although we've both suffered her loss, that gives you reason to be more concerned about recovering than me.  
  
"I am going to Hogwarts, Dad, and if you can't be happy for me because I'm making something of myself than so be it. I don't need your approval, nor do I need your consent. I only hope that you'll give me your respect." He held his head triumphantly, a small grin forming on his face. The grin grew, however, when Lucius turned around and he was smiling sadly.  
  
"I see a little bit more of your mother in you every day," he said, looking at his son rather fondly. "She was stubborn, too." He sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "Go, if you must, but make sure you write to me and visit as often as you can."  
  
"I will," Draco promised, squeezing Hermione's hand in silent happiness. "Thanks for understanding." 


	11. See You Later

"I think I'm ready," Hermione said, dragging her trunk downstairs. It thumped the last few steps and hit the landing, sending up a cloud of dust that had settled on the floor.  
  
Draco stared at the trunk and several bags Hermione was carrying. "Did you come here with that much stuff?" he asked her.  
  
"Pretty much," she replied, looking around. "I'm just going to run up and take one more look to make sure I have everything. I don't want to get back to school and then realize that I've forgotten something vital." She took the stairs two at a time and raced into her room.  
  
The walls were bare, the bed was cleared and the shelves were empty. Taking a moment, she sat on the bed and looked around. The last year of her life had been quite the ride. But eventually, she could feel, she would be walking down the aisle to become Mrs. Draco Malfoy for real this time. She grinned and hugged her middle, thinking of the reunion she was to have with Ron and Harry when they came back from Australia. It would be the first time that Draco and the two boys would come face to face since school and Hermione was more than sure she would have to have her wand prepared just in case.  
  
"Daydreaming?" Draco appeared in the doorway, smiling at her, his arms crossed. "You know, they say if you save your daydreams for dreams at night, it makes them ten times better."  
  
"I'll bet," Hermione said, watching Draco strut across the room to her. He sat beside her on the bed and took her hand tenderly. "No matter how much hell this place has put me through, I will miss it," she told him sadly.  
  
"Now you know the internal battle I'm suffering," Draco said and Hermione got the distinct impression that that was more an internal thought than anything. She squeezed his hand gently and smiled.  
  
"We had better go," she told him, standing up and pulling him to his feet. They left the room, closing the door softly behind them. Draco stopped at his bedroom door and swung it open.  
  
"I just want to say goodbye."  
  
She laughed and pushed him. "We'll be back in a few months," she told him. "Your dad left a few conditions and one of them is that we come back on Christmas vacation."  
  
"I know," he said, pulling her inside and closing the door, "but I still want to say goodbye. I've lived here for the past who knows how many years of my life."  
  
"Minus the few months we lived in our mansion," she reminded him as he pulled her close. He gave her meaningful glances towards the bed.  
  
"Once more in my bed? For old times' sake?"  
  
"Um, no. We've got to go; lessons start tomorrow and Snape wants to go over some things with you before then. He doesn't want you poisoning the students."  
  
"I don't know why," Draco said, releasing Hermione and opening the door again. "They're such horrible little brats. I really hope I wasn't like that when I was in my younger years."  
  
"You're still like that now," Hermione teased him, amazed at how much he reminded her of Ron at that point. They reached the front door but Lucius was nowhere to be found.  
  
"Tell him we said goodbye," Draco told the maid as they boarded the carriage that would take them to the castle. "And tell him that we'll write as soon as we get settled in."  
  
Hermione couldn't help but notice the look of despair on Draco's face. "He probably just didn't want to suffer the feeling of goodbye," she told him softly as the carriage pulled away from Malfoy Manor.  
  
"Right," Draco said, craning his neck to look for his father somewhere behind the carriage. He continued to look until the Manor was well out of sight. "Can't help but feel disappointed," he muttered, turning back around.  
  
"Yeah," Hermione said but she knew exactly why Lucius was avoiding them. It was hard enough for him to lose his wife but losing his son was another story. Sure, Draco would be back, but Narcissa's death had taught everyone in the house not to take things for granted and Hermione guessed that Lucius didn't want to say goodbye to his son for fear that he might never see him again. If you don't say goodbye, you never have to say hello again, therefore, you've never really left.  
  
Hermione smiled to herself and held Draco's hand as the carriage took them towards their new future. There had been a lot of firsts Hermione had been experiencing in the past few years and she hoped that it would never end. 


End file.
